


Last Testament

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-10
Updated: 2007-12-10
Packaged: 2018-10-26 12:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10786620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Going out the way he wanted. A beloved friend makes his final bow.





	Last Testament

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

**The last Testament of Fred Weasley**

by alloy.

"Abercrombie, Devernish & Abercrombie."

The name appeared in gold letters against dark ebony panels.

"Wow," Ron said. "Established 1238." He squeezed Hermione's hand. "Bet it's all green and snaky inside."

"Why would Fred choose a law firm like this?"

"Because they have a reputation for survival." George's voice behind them seemed very out of place in this gloomy foyer.

A door opened and for a moment Hermione wondered if Severus Snape had somehow cheated death when both his masters had failed.

"You're late, Mr. Weasley."

A shiver ran down Hermione's spine.

"I couldn't imagine why you'd worry, Devernish. You're being paid by the hour." George swept past the haunty figure.

Ron chuckled and Hermione felt his breath warm against her neck. "I reckon I found another."

"May I help you?" The pause was almost tangible. "Sir."

Ron handed Devernish his invitation, which the man didn't even bother to look at it. "Please come in, Mr. Weasley." Hermione felt a cold eye being cast over her. "Invitees only, Mr. Weasley. There is a small waiting room where your… companion may wait."

"Hermione... I mean Miss Granger is invited."

Hermione rewarded Ron with a warm smile and presented her invitation.

Devernish took it from her hand with obvious distaste.

“No accounting for Fred’s taste, heh?” said Ron to the solicitor

“Ronald!” Hermione laughed. “This is the reading of Fred’s Last Will and Testament.”

“Reckon Fred would have enjoyed the look on his face,” Ron said, and Hermione nodded as they entered the suite.

It was all green and snaky.

They waited for a moment, and Hermione took the opportunity to reflect on the past few weeks. The last two days were of special significance. Her decision to go looking for her parents, Ron’s decision to accompany her, overriding her objections with his lips and his pledge to her.

All the things they needed to talk to his parents about once this day’s grim chore was completed.

The door clicked behind them, and Bill, Fleur and Percy joined them. Percy looked haggard, as he had since Fred’s passing. Hermione knew that he irrationally held some guilt that he couldn’t save his younger brother, but she also knew that the love of his forgiving family was helping his healing process.

Charlie, Ginny and Harry appeared next and then Molly and Arthur Weasley followed by the sour faced Devernish.

“That’s everyone,” he said. “If you would all follow me, we have prepared a room especially in accordance with Mister Weasley’s final wishes.”

Their mood became sober as their host approached the dark wooden doors and flung them open with a flourish.

“Blimey” was Ron’s initial response, and Hermione could only echo it in her mind.

The room glowed red and gold and Gryffindor banners hung from the ceiling, For Hermione it was like coming home to their school common room.

In the centre of the room stood a large round table upon which stood plates and party hats. A Large silver cylinder sat in the middle of the table.

George sat at the table, a party hat already sitting at a jaunty angel on his head.

“It is Mister Weasley’s wish that you don the hats provided.” Devernish led by bizarre example and then beckoned for them to sit where name places indicated.

Arthur and Molly sat down facing the door though which they had entered. To Molly’s left Ginny sat, alongside her Harry, then Hermione and Ron, George, and empty seat.

“Fred’s,” Hermione thought.

Percy sat down mournfully next to Fred’s empty seat followed by Charlie, Fleur and finally Bill next to his father.

“Ladies and Gentleman, we are gathered here for the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Fred Weasley. While I have the witnessed signed written will in my possession it was the desire of the deceased to deliver his final wishes by way of a day dream spell.”

“If everyone could please place their hands against the cylinder on the table.“

There wasn’t a flash of light, or a lightning bolt, there was just Fred.

“Part of me,” said Fred lifting his glass off the now food laden table. “Is pleased you all look so glum. Another part of me wishes you weren’t.”

“FRED.” A chair scraped and Molly Weasley engulfed her son in a bear hug.

“Easy on, Mum, Easy on, you’re trying to love me to death.”

There was silence, and then Molly chuckled. “You and George were also far too clever, my boy.”

Hermione smiled to herself and squeezed Ron’s Hand.

Fred held up his hand. “I want to remind you that I am dead. That this little dream is being moulded in some way by all of you but mostly by my memory and George who knew me best of all. Furthermore I would like to remind the ladies that this meal is completely non-fattening.”

The laughter came more readily this time.

“This really is a most brilliant idea,” Hermione said.

“Yeah,” Ron replied gruffly.

Fred spoke again. “I’m really very pleased to see that all of you survived our little skirmish with Voldemort. I’m sure everyone played a part, and I can only hope I played mine.

“You did,” said Percy speaking up for the first time. “You most definitely did.”

“Thank you, Percy, It’s great that you’re back with us.”

Percy hid his face in his arms and a great sob racked his body. “I’m sorry, Fred, I really am.”

“Don’t be,” Fred replied. “Honestly I feel fine.”

A staggered chuckle ran around the table. And Mr. Weasley spoke quietly with great conviction. “I’m proud of you, son.”

Fred nodded, pausing thoughtfully. “I think we had better move on.”

Then he laughed the same laugh that Hermione always thought made him and George so alive.

“What you all really came here for.”

Fred pointed his wand at a wall, and it shimmered revealing a Gringotts bank vault. He flicked and the door opened to reveal mountains of glowing gems and shining gold and silver.

“My loot, my hoard, my boodle.”

“Your estate, Sir.’

Hermione sensed that the Devernish now in the dream wasn’t real like themselves, but rather an echo, a recording.

“Oh yes,” Fred continued. “For the record, as old sourface here will tell you, it looks nothing like that,”

Fred scanned the table.

“Harry Potter.”

Harry started. “Yes.”

“I give you my thanks, Harry, for my family. They’re all here, safe, and I thank you for that.”

Harry was blushing, and mumbling under his breath.

“I’d give you my sister too,” Fred said. “Reckon she needs a man with lots of luck and very little sense.” Harry smiled wanly. “But I reckon you had better ask Dad.”

“Oi! Don’t I have any say in it?”

“Ah my darling sister, the sweet, the innocent…” Ginny stuck her tongue and raised her wand. “We’ve made sure your bat bogey hex doesn’t work in here.”

“Bugger!” she said.

“I bequeath you five percent of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes. Just in case the Chosen One can’t find your bedroom window with a ladder.”

Hermione listened as Fred quickly further disposed of his assets:

To Percy, because he showed up, five percent of the business. To Bill and Fleur, a trust fund for their future children, to Charlie Fred’s share of the twins flat, to George a small percentage of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes enough to give him a majority stake and his clothes and personal keepsakes. To his Mum and Dad the second largest share in the business for their retirement.

“Just Ron left.” Hermione thought.

“To Miss Hermione Granger, five percent of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes.”

“No wait, Hermione said. “I can’t accept that, it should go to family.”

George looked up, his eyes red from his silent tears. “It is Hermione. For once in your life resist the urge to argue with a Weasley male.”

Ron snorted, and squeezed her hand. “Fred always liked you,” he said.

“To Ronald Bilius Weasley, my baby brother, and the one I’m most proud of, five percent of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes.”

“But!” Fred grinned and waved his wand. ”There’s condition.”

“There always is with you lot,” Ron said with an air of resignation. “What are you going to make me do?”

“The condition!” said Fred. “Is that before your twenty fifth you must get married.”

“And?”

“To one Hermione Jean Granger, muggleborn witch.”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat on the one hand Fred was trying to force Ron into something, on the other….

“That’s blackmail, Fred!”

Fred nodded. “Why yes, ickle Ronnikins, just what are you going to do about it?”

“You’re almost out of time,” George said interrupting.

Fred stood. “To everyone at this table, to everyone, everyone that I’ve loved. I hope to see you all again. Only please, not too soon.”

And then Fred Weasley faded away for the last time.

“You knew about that, George?” Ron said. “About the condition?”

George nodded. “I have a similar clause.”

Ron sighed deeply and tapped Hermione’s hand with his fingers. “And if I don’t?”

“Money’s to go to S.PE.W.” George grinned. “I understand you’re still the treasurer.”

It was Mr. Weasley who spoke next. “Now, George, I don’t really think that it is fair of you and Fred, to try and force Ron into marriage like this. What about Hermione?

What if she doesn’t feel the same way about Ron as he does about her…”

“Exactly!” interrupted Molly. “What if she doesn’t want to be a missus Weasley?”

“But I will,” Hermione said without thinking.

“You will?” Harry said into the deafening silence.

“Ronald?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

Next to her Ron sighed. “Nothing’s set in stone, mum, it’s just…Hermione and I have known for a while now that we want to be together.”

Hermione kicked Ron.

“Ow! And er.. I sort of unofficially officially asked her two days ago.”

“Two days ago?” Molly Weasley’s voice had become shrill. “And were you planning to tell us anytime soon?”

“We were,” Hermione said. “Later this afternoon, about that and a few other things.”

“We’re going to Australia,” Ron blurted. “To fetch Hermione’s parents.”

“Excuse me,” said Devernish. “Your time is almost up. Do any of you have any questions regarding Mr. Weasley’s last wishes?”

Hermione felt Molly Weasley’s eye cast over her and Ron. “About Fred’s will,” Molly said. “No. About some other things….”

As Weasleys filed out of the offices Fleur fell in behind Hermione “She iz not zo bad,” she whispered. “And she likez you.”

Then Molly Weasley approached her, and Hermione knew that somewhere, somehow Fred Weasley was rolling with laughter.

"Well," Hermione thought steeling herself for the ordeal. "If anybody deserved it, Fred did."

Fin.


End file.
